A/N: Okay...so its not a oneshot anymore. It's possibly a three or four shot? Anywho...Hope you like it and hope that I did not screw this up horribly by overdoing it with the violence. If you were to read the other, not so good fics I have you'd know I have a knack for that.

Disclaimer: What's the point of these things. If I owned this I'd be filthy rich. RICH, I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dale's hands were shaking as he sat in the prison cell. One, he had been beaten badly. There was no way that he should be healed already. And two, where had that gun come from? His blade he carried with him everywhere but when he had reached for it he had felt the cold steel of a gun. And it was a wonder that his memory was working. It had failed him when he had awakened and found himself behind bars. He couldn't remember a thing. But slowly it had flowed back. Piece by piece, he recalled every bit of the vicious attack from Hermione's boyfriend. Her boyfriend.

"Ahh!" He couldn't help but scream at that thought. He loved her. He pretty much worshipped her. How could that stupid fool with his superpowers or whatever they were just steal her from him?

Clenching and unclenching his fist, he slammed his hand into the brick wall of his cell. To his utter shock, it crumbled. He backed off from the dirty mattress he was sitting on, falling on the floor with his eyes wide. It had been a week since the...fight...and he had punched the wall on plenty of occasions. Why did it crumble now?

He felt like a villain in a cheesy superhero movie. Making another fist, he prepared to break his way out of the prison, when he felt the sharpest of pains in his head.

You fool. I can help you. You want Granger, no?

"Who-w-where are you?!"

DO YOU?! There was another sharp pain that racked his brain.

"Yes, yes I want Hermione!"

Then let us help you. It is our powers you employ. You can either keep them. Or throw them away.

Dale stuttered, unsure of what he should do. Confused beyond anything he'd ever felt. He didn't know who this person-or rather, people, were. He didn't know who Harry was. He didn't know what was going on. All that he knew was that Hermione was being offered to him, and he wasn't about to blow this chance.

"Yes. Help me get Hermione." And then he blacked out.

The guard that had come running at the sound of Dale's screams stopped abruptly in front of the cell in shock. The boy was ripping one of the bars, three inches taller than him and solid steel, from the door. As it ripped out in a flurry of bricks and dust, Dale caught sight of him.

The guard had his gun in his hand and he backed up against the wall, the weapon pointed at the convict. Dale smirked a smile that looked as sadistic as anything he had ever seen. He twirled the bar and the guard let off three shots from his handgun. The guard saw a blur and felt his chest collapse. As he sank downwards, the last thing he saw was a light where the wall of the cell used to be.

Dale regained consciousness as suddenly as he had lost it. He stumbled and fell at the suddenness. Pushing himself up, he saw that he was in the street. There was an iron bar in his hand. He looked toward the prison building. From where he was, it wasn't much of a view. The first thing he noticed was the enormous hole in the building. Where his cell used to be. On the third floor. How had he survived that? And how did he make so much distance so fast? While unconscious. Even he knew that there were forces at work here that even he knew he shouldn't be messing with. But all that was on his mind was Hermione.

Hermione laughed at Harry's antics. At the moment his mouth was agape as he stepped into her basement. The basement was enormous and it was lined with bookshelves. It was like a library.

"Oh. My. God."

"Oh, come now, you see more than these books at the Hogwarts library all the time."

"Yeah, but I have never seen this many books in one house. And then there are books in your room as well." He absent mindedly wandered around. He moved off to the desk in one corner. There was a large pile of books there too. He pointed at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Library."

"Right."

Harry opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a scream upstairs.

"Mom!"

Hermione grabbed her wand and ran upstairs.

"Mione!" He followed her up, focusing on his power.

Upstairs, he stopped in his tracks when he saw who was in the doorway.

"Oh, HELL NO!" Harry stepped up beside Hermione, where she was standing with her wand out. "You again?!" He looked to the side briefly and he saw Hermione's mother sprawled against the wall, cowering.

"You're not leaving alive this time."

Last time Harry had not comprehended what Dale looked like but now he looked him over completely, not planning to leave the punk alive. His blonde hair was spiked in an unorthodox manner, flying all over the place. He was average size, neither too large nor small. His eyes, a haunting blue, were floating in fear. Dale was carrying a large iron bar and his prison clothes made it clear that he had no concealed weapons. Or did he? After all, he didn't escape from prison and with his bare hands or even that rod. He was no wizard.

Though his trained eyes did not give it away, Harry spotted movement near the room next to Dale. The dining room. A wooden chair collided with his average frame but shattered instead of doing any damage at all, it seemed. Dale smirked, but his eyes still belied the fear he felt.

Harry tapped into his magic before he rushed at Dale with his bare hands. Dale brought up his bar but Harry ducked under it and rammed into Dale's stomach with his shoulder. The force of the blow sent Dale flying through the screen door and careening into the lawn. Without skipping a beat Harry ran through the door and Hermione followed.

Dale struggled to right himself as he saw Harry running towards him. Before he could react, a foot collided with his face, sending him into the street. The magic enhanced blows hurt him, and were it not for whatever power helping him, he would be long dead by now.

This time, Dale managed to get up and hold the rod in an impromptu defense position. Harry easily slipped through it and his fist met Dale's gut and he doubled over, breath lost.

You fool! My turn! This time, Dale did not black out, however. He seemed to be in the back of his own mind, able to see what was going on but paralyzed. He saw Hermione level her stick at him and she yelled some word that sent the most terrible convulsions of pain through him.

Harry steeled his gaze, staring at Dale with cold eyes. Hermione screamed, "Crucio!" and at the moment he could care less that she had used an Unforgivable. Dale deserved it. But he hardly seemed phased. Only his head was down and it looked like he was planning something.

As fast as lightning, Harry felt Dale's fist ram into his chest. Surprised, he staggered back, and his head met the iron bar with an enormous force. His eyes flickered in and out of sight. When something fell in front of him, he swung at it weakly. As his vision cleared, he saw crimson eyes. He heard Hermione's screech and the crimson eyes still remained on his mind. Pushing himself up, he looked up and saw the bar coming down. The crimson eyes.

"Voldemort."

And that was all he knew.